1776 In the revolutionary war John Adams' wife wrote that she led a women's piss brigade for gunpowder. I had no idea it took so long to make back then.

I don't know if librarians have proprietary secrets but how did you find that poem? I believe you may have raised search skills to a performance art of virtuosity, or at least the illusion, which is of course the same thing to an audience.

Real song from the CSA. Haralson was designated to collect chamber lye from the ladies of Selma, Alabama to use in making KNO3 for the Confederate troops. Sung to the tune of "O Tannenbaum" or "Maryland, My Maryland" (your choice).

John Haralson! John Haralson! You are a funny creature; You've given to this cruel war A new and curious feature. You'd have us think, while every man Was born to be a fighter, The women, bless the pretty dears Should save their pee for nitre.

John Haralson! John Haralson! Where did you get the notion To send barrels around our street To fill them with that lotion? We thought the girls work enough With making shirts and kissing: But now you put the lovely dears To patriotic pissing.

John Haralson! John Haralson! Pray do invent neater And a somewhat less immodest way Of making your saltpetre. The thing is so very odd, Gunpowder like and cranky, That when a woman lifts her skirt She shoots another Yankee!

They say there is a subtle smell That lingers in the powder; That when the smoke grows thicker, And the din of the battle louder That there is found to this compound One serious objection; A soldier can not sniff it Without having an erection.

The earliest known complete purification process for potassium nitrate was outlined in 1270 by the chemist and engineer Hasan al-Rammah of Syria in his book al-Furusiyya wa al-Manasib al-Harbiyya (The Book of Military Horsemanship and Ingenious War Devices). In this book, al-Rammah describes first the purification of barud (crude saltpeter mineral) by boiling it with minimal water and using only the hot solution, then the use of potassium carbonate (in the form of wood ashes) to remove calcium and magnesium by precipitation of their carbonates from this solution, leaving a solution of purified potassium nitrate, which could then be dried.[15] This was used for the manufacture of gunpowder and explosive devices. The terminology used by al-Rammah indicated a Chinese origin for the gunpowder weapons about which he wrote.[16]

At least as far back as 1845, Chilean saltpeter deposits were exploited in Chile and California, USA.

A major natural source of potassium nitrate was the deposits crystallizing from cave walls and the accumulations of bat guano in caves.[17] Extraction is accomplished by immersing the guano in water for a day, filtering, and harvesting the crystals in the filtered water. Traditionally, guano was the source used in Laos for the manufacture of gunpowder for Bang Fai rockets...

In the process of food preservation, potassium nitrate has been a common ingredient of salted meat since the Middle Ages,[22] but its use has been mostly discontinued because of inconsistent results compared to more modern nitrate and nitrite compounds. Even so, saltpeter is still used in some food applications, such as charcuterie and the brine used to make corned beef.[23] When used as a food additive in the European Union,[24] the compound is referred to as E252; it is also approved for use as a food additive in the USA[25] and Australia and New Zealand[26] (where it is listed under its INS number 252).[3] Although nitrate salts have been suspected of producing the carcinogen nitrosamine, both sodium and potassium nitrates and nitrites have been added to meats in the US since 1925, and nitrates and nitrites have not been removed from preserved meat products because nitrite and nitrate inhibits the germination of C. botulinum endospores, and thus prevents botulism form bacterial toxin that may otherwise be produced in certain preserved meat products.[27][28]

In West African cuisine, potassium nitrate (saltpetre) is widely used as a thickening agent in soups and stews such as okra soup[29] and isi ewu. It is also used to soften food and reduce cooking time when boiling beans and tough meat. Saltpetre is also an essential ingredient in making special porridges, such as kunun kanwa[30] literally translated from the Hausa language as 'saltpetre porridge'. In the Shetland Islands (UK) it is used in the curing of mutton to make "reestit" mutton, a local delicacy.

Which, when my brothers found out that sodium and/or potassium nitrate were in the hot dogs we ate gave rise to the idea of taking a raw hot dog and sticking fuse in it. "Stand back, I'm gonna light the hot dog now!"

The French recipe for the manufacture of salt peter and niter may have been featured #1 because the French palette was already gourmet trained and cultured for shit and piss tasting purposes. It seems to me it has to be an acquired taste. The rest of the story may even include using unwashed French Prostitutes for taste training purposes. More historical research may prove quite interesting, such as the trials and tribulations of the very first guy to make salt peter and exactly how he discovered its volatile nature. Like I said it could be interesting shit.

I have never read poetry on an NPR station, though I have performed a few times as part of a couple of bands. I once agreed to play some mellow improvised hammer dulcimer stuff while some guy read his poetry, but I was drunk when I struck the agreement and, when I sobered up, I remembered that I don't do mellow improvised hammer dulcimer stuff, only fast fiddle tunes. Somehow, playing "Liberty" or "Forked Deer" while someone read a poem about death and destruction didn't seem like a really good idea, so I called in sick and the station recruited a flute player from the university's music department.

A turn of phrase by Amos can be just two words long but I remember them forever in a colored context. He sure knows how to naturally connect with dyslexic synthetes. &^} Example: tendril of consciousness synthesisia translation - (deep blue light greeny green)

Thomas Wolfe once wrote 'living tendril' - not as good as Amos'.

There was another who had a similar talent but with four letter words and name. He specialized in reds and yellows.

MOM FELL OFF THE PAGE! FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER (AS FAR AS I KNOW) MOM FELL OFF THE PAGE!

I administered first aid, and the EMTs* took her to the horsespittle in an ambulance. She is in the ICU, but can receive visitors. A bottle of bourbon hidden in a gift of chocolates would not be unappreciated, she told me.

Keep them fingers crossed, brothers and sisters of Mom's hallowed halls. Remember--anything is possible. And this too shall pass. And ya never know. And different day, S.O.S. And caetera.

I was on the radio here the other day for half an hour--a brief dissertation on poetry and a couple of poems and a song. The producer was really delighted with it. Tole me later it was as good as anything they'd ever had in their spoken word series. So, way kewl.

Mars is simply the industry code word for Bangkok. Alex Jones is probably doing a preposterous Mars child sex distraction story to minimize and confuse the long standing story of Trump reportedly attending a pedophilia flight with an associate famous for bringing kids on board for immoral purposes. Madness has a method.

The actual Mars is not just unbreathable, it stinks to high heaven. The Hydrogen sulfide in the thin near pressureless atmosphere seeps into any airlock system and renders a horrible fart stench. They don't advertise the fact that the whole planet stinks really bad. Space Febreze comes in tiny squares that attach to air vents and really does work - in simulations.

My little weather station here in my lair has a future forecast feature. Right now it's predicting rain. Well, yes, it probably will rain sometime in the future. It's kinda like my "Might snow today" -- either it will or it won't. I can pree-dick weather! I'm a prophet!

NASA has publicly announced that, contrary to the opinion expressed by some yo-yo on Alex Jones' Infowars program, there are no child sex slaves on Mars.

This is good news and bad news.

Good news because there are no child sex slaves on Mars.

Bad news because, if one is destined to be a child sex slave, Mars would be a pretty good place to do it. Since there are no adult humans on Mars, there'd be nobody to be a sex slave for! Martian child sex slaves wouldn't have to ply their trade at all, but would be free to grow up to be normal well-adjusted human beings. Well, as well-adjusted as one could be living on a planet with no breathable air, no liquid water, and an atmosphere that does almost zilch to filter out deadly radiation. Still, it probably beats Bangkok.

I've heard that the Aedes aegypti mosquito which carries the Zika virus can lay its eggs in as little water as what's contained in a bottle cap. Well then, it seems pretty obvious to me that the key to defeating the Zika virus is to eliminate bottle caps! So, next time you shoplift a bottle of booze, make sure it has a cork instead of a screw-cap. Do your part for public health!

Well, it's Dominion Day. I saw our Prime Asshole chatting with Bonnie Prince Chuck on the TV at Mum's after I finished some window washing, scrubbing, vacuuming, and such. Similar chaps. Both born with a silver spoon up their ass. But, at least Chuck can't fuck up an entire country with lies and broken promises. I'd write a poem about Mini-Me Harper but I can't think of anything to rhyme with &*@$#%^*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Big celebrations are planned in NB.ca for July 4th. Well, for close to 4000 NBers. OTOH, about 55,000 NBers will be cryin' in their beer. Moose draw results will be available IF the gubmint doesn't screw up the draw somehow. I am sure they have someone working on it.

I had a friend, upon a time, and a mighty friend was he. His tongue went loop-de-loop-de-loop, and his blade went "Snicker! Snee!". His fingers typed words of delight Dancing like light gone mad, But he disappeared quite late, one night, And the story turned out bad.

It seems his door was knocked upon, When most folks were in bed, By two large gents in wrinkled suits And large, and wrinkled, heads. They said he had been singled out, That someone Big was pissed, Berated him as a useless lout, And a goddamned plagiarist.

They listed tomes and poems and works He'd borrowed for a while, And touted up and frilled out In inimitable style. The said he'd never paid a dime To those whose works he'd borrow, And all of this was coming back, To visit him with sorrow.

They told him he was going away, Into the darkling deeps Where bad men worry through the day, And fret too much to sleep. Where hard men break, and life is hard, And you scramble for what you get, And there's no such thing as e-mail, OR a high-speed Internet.

My friend, he blanched, he paled, he flinched, He knew that he'd done wrong, He knew that even then his screen Held a half-baked stolen song. He realized then -- too late, too late -- He should have listened, way back when, To his dear Mom; too late, too late, He was heard from ne'er again.

And so I come to this Cafe, To write, and to forget, But something still recalls to me This friend I think on yet. I never learned if he had ever re-crossed that chilling schism That split him from the world he loved, On account of plagiarism.

So good folks all, pray heed this call, Think of this man, cast doon, And make your good works all your own, From your own hand, alone. Steal not the works of other men, Or lines of other poets; For if you do, they'll come for you, And everyone will know it.

A scar is a star that shines a faint light Forever long ago that's only now in sight The story it tells is of help or fate The extreme scars are the marks left by hate.

They all have a story of minor cuts or gory burn. Invisible scars can be the absolute worst of all. The scars that are invisible we are slow to learn. You're a brilliant star that smiles despite a fall.

We all judge not by achievement but by intent it is the mean spirit to inflict we all resent

I love you just the way you are (after they buff that awful scar) and laser the tattoos over your heart I'm sure we're destined never to part Remember to tuck up that cute double chin and put those buttocks back where they'd been Do ask about Lypo and wax that moustache and while you are at it get those teeth that flash A beautiful smile in no time they say it Looks great and it seems such a small price to pay For love such as ours that withstands any crisis so while you are there just look into the prices of permanent lashes and green contacts honey and buy some new clothes for it's well worth the money a wig or a dye job will top off the look and get those new nails that we saw in that book I love you for you but it's so plain to see There's really a much better you you can be So call me next year after all transformations (I'm sure you'll exceed all of my expectations) Just fax me a photo I'll show it with pride But remember I love you for the you that's inside!